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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29685714">Pick your Feelings up at the Door</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmeraldFondue/pseuds/EmeraldFondue'>EmeraldFondue</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Six - Marlow/Moss</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Catherine is the ex wife and Anne the new Wife, Domestic Fluff, Drunken Confessions, Drunken Kissing, Drunkenness, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, F/M, Henry is a cheater, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Kid Fic, Swearing, Wine moms, baby liz, henry is a shitty husband, no more, they don't know they're pining</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 01:35:33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,004</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29685714</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmeraldFondue/pseuds/EmeraldFondue</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Anne is a new mum and stressed out of her mind. It doesn't help that her husband is never around.<br/>Catalina just wants to drop her daughter off for a weekend with her father in peace. </p><p>When Catalina is back to pick Mary up on Sunday, she isn't met with their usual fight. Instead, she finds Anne vulnerable and willing to play nice - for at least one glass of wine on the porch. They have a lot in common after all. Maybe more than they ever thought. </p><p>(Araleyn bonding over their shitty husband? More likely than you think!)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Anne Boleyn/Catherine of Aragon, Anne Boleyn/Henry VIII of England, implied Jane Seymour/Henry VIII of England, past Catherine of Aragon/Henry VIII of England</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>67</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Pick your Feelings up at the Door</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>The Wine Mom AU no one asked for! </p><p>Did I write this while procrastinating on chapter 8 of the slow-burn I'm secretly writing? Yes! That's why I won't post it until it's done...(It's the law-school AU that no one asked for either).</p><p>HAVE FUN!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>A shrill ring ripped through the quiet afternoon air, instantly followed by the high-pitched scream of an infant; ought to have been disturbed and now complaining, with all that her little lungs could give.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Oh, not again," Anne hissed and pushed herself out of the short-lived comfort the white leather couch had offered her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With big, angry steps, she charged across the open living room, towards the entryway. Ripping the door open as if it had personally offended her. They had been through this. Why did no one ever listen to her? She had told Henry to tell Catalina not to ring the doorbell, on multiple occasions. But of course, to no avail, as evident by the crying baby in the nursery just two doors down. Living proof of the disturbance. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Anne didn't even look at the guests standing right outside, before turning on her heel and rushing over to the slightly ajar door separating her from Elizabeth. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They were so close to getting into a proper routine. One step forward, two steps backwards. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Carefully, willing her angry limps to still, she picked the six-weeks-old up and cradled her against her shoulder, rocking the little girl with uncertain movements. It didn't usually help. Anne was still trying to figure out the right buttons to push to calm her daughter down. They were slowly getting used to each other.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Shhhhh, it's okay...", Liz seemed to have a notably particular aversion toward the doorbell, above all other sounds – including the dog barking at the neighbour's cat.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Not expecting Elizabeth to stop anytime soon, Anne stomped out of the room and back to the entrance hall. Catalina de Aragon had let herself in and closed the door. By the looks of it, Mary had already run off to dump her bag in her room upstairs. She wasn't very fond of wasting weekends with her dad recently. He was rarely even around, yet insisted she come over on the scheduled dates nevertheless. Sometimes Henry would argue that it </span>
  <em>
    <span>“gives you two (now three) time to bond a little”</span>
  </em>
  <span> and kiss both Mary and Anne on their respective forehead. They nevertheless did not get along. Anne had briefly tried to offer friendship to her stepdaughter but promptly given up again. Mary was 9. Her mind was made up. She didn't like her father's new wife, she didn't like his new house, she at least felt mostly indifferent towards his new baby. It was useless trying to argue with her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You were supposed to knock", Anne hissed at her husband's ex, still shifting her weight in an unbalanced manner to get Elizabeth to stop bawling her eyes out, “she doesn't like the doorbell!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Then perhaps you should put up a warning, hm? You can't expect people to read minds, Anne. She could've been awake for all I knew."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Like it was the first time. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Sure</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Anne glared at her. Catalina smiled back. Condescendingly. She might have known when she pressed that god-awful button.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yeah, sure."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elizabeth sobbed and clawed in weak grasps at Anne's knitted pistachio-green sweater. In reply Anne tried rocking her in a broader angle, leaning further to one side. Maybe she was just averse to the rhythm? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"If you keep that up, she will either spit all over you or get whiplash", Anne wanted to snap back with a witty comeback but Catalina was faster, "what are you even doing?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I'm rocking her! What am I supposed to do? She's crying!" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She could hear the Spaniard mutter something under her breath before coming closer. Naturally, Anne took a step back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Don't be absurd", Catalina took another step towards her, "let me help you, Boleyn." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I don't need your help. When did you even last hold a baby? Mary is like 10! I'm not taking advice from someone who gave birth a decade ago. Things change." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"9", she rolled her eyes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nearly their age difference. 8 years. It would've seemed that Henry had a type; pretty 22-year-olds magically attracted his wandering eye. At least Catherine and Henry were the same age when they got married and had a child.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Whatever." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Just", Catalina pinched the bridge of her nose, "stop bouncing for ten seconds. Please. You're making me seasick, too!"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"So what? You don't have to be here”, she stopped anyway – but because she was getting tired, not because the other woman had told her to, "there. Happy now?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Unquestionably." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Oh, you-" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Ah, ah", Catalina held up a warning finger, "you hear that?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elizabeth's relentless crying turned into more controlled, much quieter sobs. There was still a dull ringing in Anne's ears but that was much more bearable.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Oh, thank god", she leaned back and let out a deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment, just staying still and feeling her daughters heaving chest even out against hers. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"It encourages her to calm down when you are calm too. Jumping around like the floor is on fire does nothing for either of you." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Or maybe she's just all screamed out." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Catalina sighed, mumbling under her breath "I don't know why I try..."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Anne basked in the quietness and fell into a much calmer sway, easing the last of Lizzies cries away. She wasn't a particularly boisterous or upset baby so far (quite the opposite), but when she did cry it stressed Anne out all the more. The books she'd read never really went into detail on how to know the right thing to do. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She moved a careful hand to Elizabeth's soft red hair (so red Anne wasn't sure if they had cleaned her properly before handing her over after she gave birth), that was all Henry. Only her eyes looked like Annes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Mary?", Catalina leaned over the stairs and called out.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Will you cut it out?", Anne hissed, "she just stopped crying!"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Excuse me? I'm not screaming my lungs out here, Anne, I'm calling down my daughter to say goodbye." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Course you are. Uh-huh."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Anne turned away and walked over to the living room, glancing at her phone to see if maybe Henry called or texted that he'd be back sooner. Nothing. At least that meant he might be on time today.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yeah?", Mary came running down the hallway and then stairs, skipping the last two, "what's up?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I'm leaving now", Aragon announced, and was promptly wrapped up in a tight hug, "I'll see you Sunday night. Don't forget to finish your homework, okay, Mija?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Won't. Promise."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Maybe Anne can help you wi-" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"No, thanks."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I don't thi-"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Their replies were almost synonymous and Catalina didn't know who to glare at and tell off first. She has already had that talk with Anne; about her trying to involve herself more in Marys life. Apparently, one try was all the younger woman had to offer before she gave up and blamed the then 7-year-old for not liking her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She really didn't want to leave them alone like this. But it was fine. Fine. Anne could be trusted enough not to be a hazard to her stepdaughter and, in any other case, Mary had her cellphone with her. For emergencies only.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She chose to ignore the young mother and pressed a kiss on her daughter's hair instead, "just be good Mary."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Bye Mama."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Bye, love." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Goodbye, Anne." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yeah, sure", she was preoccupied with watching her child yawn and drift back to sleep.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Catalina sighed and let herself out before Mary ran back upstairs.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>__</span>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When Catalina came back to pick Mary up on Sunday, she didn't expect it to be her 9-year-old who opened the door, after she knocked several times – contemplating whether or not to ring the doorbell after all.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Mama!"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Hi, Baby", Catalina wrapped her up in a warm embrace and briefly mourned how big Mary has gotten. Too big to just pick her up and carry her around as she used to, "do you have your things ready? Did you have dinner yet; with Anne and Daddy?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A nod and then a head-shake, "Anne ordered dinner, but I didn't see Dad all weekend." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"At all?", Catalina frowned, this wasn't what they made this specific custody agreement for, "where is Anne now?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She was fully prepared to strangle someone if Mary had been left by herself all afternoon. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"In Lizzie's room", she shrugged, “she turned a movie on for me, but it was really for babies! I know how to change the Netflix though. So I watched the power rangers!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her mother cringed. She didn't like shows centred around violence and fighting. Maybe once Mary was older, but not now. But alas, the damage was done and the kid sounded far too excited to stop her now. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"When was that?", Catalina closed the door behind herself, as usual, and stepped inside. The downstairs part of the house seemed to be more of a mess than she remembered it to be on Friday.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Uhm... two hours ago?", her mother nodded in understanding.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Why don't you go grab your things and I'll let Anne know that I'm picking you up now?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Okay." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mary ran off, dark curly pigtails flying behind her. Someone had at least done her hair. They were far too symmetrical for the kid to have done them herself. Maybe there was hope for Mary and Anne to get along yet. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Anne?", Catalina whispered and pushed the door to the dimly lit nursery open a little further, “Mary let me in. You didn't hear me knock.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She didn't mean to sound so patronising. Even though it had been a long, long, long time ago - she still remembered how upset she was when someone woke up Mary after hours of trying to get her to sleep. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Oh- sorry", Anne's voice was small and Catalina almost missed her, sitting in the rocking-chair behind the door, "we haven't gotten around to dinner yet. Sorry. Or not sorry, I'm not sure what time it is." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her voice was uneven, disturbed by tiny hiccups. Finally, Aragon stepped fully inside and closed the door carefully, before getting a good look at the woman in front of her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Anne's face was puffy and even in the dark her eyes still looked red and swollen. Like she had been crying. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elizabeth was right there, cradled carefully in a baby blue blanket on her lap, draped against her chest – which was fully covered but - Catalina knew an unclipped nursing-bra when she saw one.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She took a deep breath, preparing herself to be the bigger person and for any approaching sarcastic remarks and/or possible insults, “are you alright, Anne?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Catalina has had her own battle with breastfeeding, she knew it could be a struggle. The only audible reply was a broken sob, as Anne moved a free hand to her messy dark hair.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Hey... it's okay...", Catalina could make out fresh tears und rushed over to her. Enemies or not. She didn't want Anne to suffer. Not anymore. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>All of Catalina's initial jealousy over Henry has since evaporated. The divorce rid her of all excess energy plus hatred. Their current rivalry seemed to be of a purely maternal kind. Mostly.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You know, for a long time, I struggled to breastfeed, too. It's okay to rely on formula now and again, Anne, you kn-" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"What are you talking about?", she hiccuped and looked down at Catalina, crouching by her feet, "I have no issue breastfeeding! It's going great!" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oh.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Then what are you crying about...?", she frowned.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It could just be baby hormones. Elizabeth wasn't even two months old. Not that you'd know just by looking at Anne, she's had full hips before - Aragon had noticed - and barely looked any different now. It had taken Catalina years to gradually return to her pre-baby silhouette. Which was fine, because she loved the accomplishment of having produced a human with it, but perhaps a little bit of jealousy was still okay to feel. At least while society still preached that there was only one right way to have a body (or a baby) - rather than many. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Anne hesitated, in conflict with herself for a few long seconds, before blurting the words out so fast that she almost missed them, "Henry didn't come home last night. Or last weekend. Or sometimes during the week."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A presumption that Catalina felt she was an expert in. It's never been just </span>
  <em>
    <span>'work got in the way'</span>
  </em>
  <span> with Henry. She's been through that more than once. Anne was simply the only one who stuck.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I'm pretty sure he's seeing my cousin." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
  <strong>
    <span>Oh</span>
  </strong>
  <span>. That was new.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I-I'm sorry...", she tried not to tell her that maybe Anne should have expected him to cheat since he had cheated on his last wife with </span>
  <em>
    <span>her</span>
  </em>
  <span>. It looked like a pattern even before it twisted into one with full certainty.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Screw you", Anne stilled. Starring. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She had said it out loud, hadn't she? Even when she knew better Catalina had to pour salt and be bitter about it.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I didn't mean-. Fuck. I'm sorry."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Silence.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"What?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I've never heard you curse before. Not even when you were chasing me out the house, screaming..." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Well... I hope that helps amplify that I didn't mean it. You couldn't have known he'd cheat on you too." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"No, you're right", Anne shrugged, looking helpless and tired with dark, purple bags under her eyes and the newborn in her arms. At least Catalina wasn't freshly post-partum when she had to deal with Henry's bullshit for the first time. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I'm not...", it was hard to admit, "he could have changed his behaviour. For all I know it was our marriage that wasn't working for Henry and you're what he was looking for all along." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yeah... well, mate, I hope you didn't have any money riding on that." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I didn't..." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Thought so..." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Mama?", Mary called out and came running over to the door, peeping inside, "there's a delivery man at the door. He's asking for money. Do any of you people have some of that? I'm starving and he's not giving me the foods." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Dinner. Right", Anne looked around, searching for a purse that didn't belong in the room anyhow - lacking any kind of orientation as she tried to get up while holding Elizabeth securely with one arm.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"It's okay. I've got it", Catalina got up and jogged to the door, "thank you, Mary." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She needed to teach her daughter not to open the door by herself.</span>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Catalina paid for the take out, thanked the man and took the bags to the kitchen. She would've put it right in the fridge if it weren't so hot.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You can stay for dinner. I mean, if you want to...", Anne appeared in the door, holding Liz on her forearm at an angle that almost looked right.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>No way was Catalina staying in this house for any longer than need be. Mary, she figured, felt the same way. She wasn't so naive as to think they could have a peaceful family dinner together. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Okay", the words left the older mothers' throat without consulting her brain first.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Just....", she stepped closer, carefully, like approaching a wild animal, "here... hold your wrist... there you go. And careful with your other hand on her back. Better." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For once Anne let the other woman help and move her hands around. Maybe she was too tired to argue. But the slightly adjusted hold of her daughter was instantly more comfortable for both of them, with her weight balanced much better. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"This way your hand will also massage her little tummy, which is good for when she's not feeling well in the future. You'll see...", Catalina's fingers hovered over Anne's knuckles, who almost looked impressed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Despite everything, Anne could probably ask her older sister - a mother of two - for advice. If it not for the fact that the two of them weren't on speaking terms right now. Hadn't been since before Elizabeth was born. Their parents didn't live close by either so Anne lacked someone to show her the ins and outs of early motherhood - someone other than the midwife. She just tried to figure it all out along the way. With more or less success. Liz seemed okay so far. Anne was terrified of that changing though. She didn't want to ruin or break her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I'm getting plates", Mary announced and pulled out a chair to better reach the top shelves. She was in a much better mood than usual. Maybe it helped, to see Anne and her mother not argue with every word exchanged. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Be careful with that!" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"She's fine", Anne rolled her eyes and Mary agreed with her stepmother for once. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Why had the two women never attempted to have dinner before? Mary seemed much more content throughout the evening and even Anne seemed to make significantly less sarcastic remarks on Catalina's expense than usual. Without Henry around, almost all of the tension eased up. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mary went off to finish her last episode of the Power Rangers after Dinner and Anne put Elizabeth down for the night (or at least until her next feeding). Catalina stepped out on the porch and looked at the unfinished set of swings that Henry had promised to put up last summer. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She sighed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Here", Anne stepped up next to her with a glass of red wine in each hand. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"But you're-" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Relax, Aragon, I'll pump and dump!" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Are you su-" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Just drink with me, will you? I'm being cheated on by your ex-husband. Neither of us is drunk enough for this", fair enough. Catalina took the glass and watched Anne take an immediate sip, "there's a whole bottle where this came from." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was her first sip of alcohol in nearly a year. Worth dumping a whole lot of precious breastmilk and resorting to substitutes over. She savoured every drop.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I'm sorry you have to go through this." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They sat down on the white wood bench with the azure pillows, watching the sun start to stretch across the tainted sky. It was still warm outside but the gentle evening breeze filled the air with gripping suspense of what was to come once fall broke out. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You don't have to lie", Anne mused, "I deserve it. I did the same to you." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I'd much rather blame Henry, to be honest... but yes. I was very angry with you for a long time and I might have hoped for something like this during the divorce... But that doesn't mean you deserve to feel the same way I did." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She took a healthy sip of wine. Anne had poured far too much to be polite. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I'm sorry." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Hm?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I'm sorry I did this to you." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Thank you", she paused, Anne sounded serious, "I'm sorry too."  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They fell back into silence, watching the sky turn orange and pink like somehow their world would be okay, because how could it be crumbling when it was so beautiful? Like them sitting here together, peacefully, for the first time in three years wasn't the least likely thing either could've ever imagined happening. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I kind of admired you, when I started working for Henry, you know", Anne's glass was nearly empty, "when you'd come into the office, all dressed up and stuff and I wondered why the boss would be flirting with me when he had you waiting for him at home. I couldn't help but watch. He was messaging me and I was watching you." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Catalina let the words sit and simmer for a long moment. Maybe that was part of what had made Anne so competitive, so aggressive in her ultimate pursuit of Henry - after he had long since made his intentions clear. She wanted to go head to head with Catalina. Fight. See who'd come out at the other end. Who was stronger. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I never stood a chance against you", the older woman admitted, closing her eyes, "not just because you're younger or anything. But I think our marriage hadn't been going well for a long time. Your confidence is what brought it to its knees, Anne. And your charm of course." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She paused, then continued: "You </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>don't need Henry." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I know...", she watched what was left of her wine swirl about, "but I don't want it to end like this. I wanted things to work out and be worth it. Plus... honestly? Don't think I can raise Elizabeth by myself." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You don't have to be by yourself..." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"No, no, don't get me wrong. I don't hate myself enough to stay and watch Henry fuck his way through my family tree, just to not be alone. But you know? Someone would be nice.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Did you know he came on to my sister before we got married? We've not spoken since. And I don't know anyone else who'd be any help with being a parent, so that really sucks a lot, lol." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Catalina turned, putting her leg up on the bench, resting an arm against the back. She simply watched Anne for a long moment. Admired her. She honestly did. That determination to get away and not endure. No matter how scary it was. Catalina had stuck around for so many affairs, never said a word, even when she knew better. Anne wasn't at all like that. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I'm here", Anne didn't have to do it alone. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yeah?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yeah." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I think I'd bite your head off on impulse if you tried to tell me how to raise my own daughter, to be honest." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Thanks for the... </span>
  <em>
    <span>heads up</span>
  </em>
  <span>." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They instantly broke out in a fit of giggles and laughter. It just took a little vulnerability and wine for them to get along, didn't it. A lot less Henry than there was before. Some mutual understanding and voilá. They could sit here just fine. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I like you", Anne hummed, "but I also like screaming at you." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Ditto", Catalina chuckled and turned back towards the sky. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She didn't see the young mother watch her attentively as her mind wandered off. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I'll go and get the bottle", Anne jumped up after a few more minutes, leaving her glass abandoned on the little stone table in front of them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Please don't! I still have to dri-" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Get an Uber", she shrugged, "or stay the night. I doubt Henry will be back soon." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Catalina sighed, "Mary has-" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Mary has a room upstairs. I'll take her to school tomorrow. Come on. I need someone to get drunk with me. Imagine how fucking sad I'd look sitting here by myself, Aragon! Don't do that to me. I already inherited your shitty husband." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"One might argue that's what you deserve", Anne snorted in reply to her, "but fine. Okay. I'll drink with you. But tell Mary to go brush her teeth and get ready for bed, while you're inside." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Fine. I can play nice." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Good." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Anne rushed in and within less than five minutes she was back, balancing a bottle of wine, the baby monitor and a bag of salt and vinegar crisps. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You can't be serious." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"What? They're my favourite! Why? Which do you like most?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Catalina hesitated, "Roast chicken." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Not the worst", Anne dropped down next to her and filled their glasses up again before opening the bag, "here."  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Maybe Catalina could grow to like Salt &amp; Vinegar. They're not all bad. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They stayed outside until long after the sun had set, aside from a little field trip of taking Mary to bed, tucking her in and feeding Elizabeth some fresh formula. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The bottle of wine slowly grew empty and the light conversation that ensued was enough to distract Anne from Henrys apologetic WhatsApp. He would need to stay in the city tonight because he had to work early and didn't want to disturb Elizabeth. A load of bullshit. He never even told Catalina not to ring the doorbell. Why would he suddenly care about his youngest daughters sleep schedule? </span>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The two mothers briefly managed to get into a heated argument about theology - before settling on a mutual agreement to disagree. It was pleasant enough to discuss the topic. Catalina never figured Anne to be someone who ever pondered anything the like. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As it got closer to midnight it got colder too. The women snuggled up in blankets and Anne turned on some candles. They were determined now, to empty the whole bottle - which was a lot easier than it sounded. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I'm getting Mary heelies for Christmas." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Do you want her to tip and die?", Catalina nearly let her glass slip out between her fingers. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"And you're calling </span>
  <em>
    <span>me </span>
  </em>
  <span>dramatic? Really? No, I don't! I want her to be cool and popular!" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I thought she's not even popular with you, Boleyn?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"She's not the </span>
  <em>
    <span>worst </span>
  </em>
  <span>kid." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Does that mean you two will stop calling each other names?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"No. I kind of like her insults." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They were way past tipsy when the candles burned out and the glasses stood untouched and empty next to the bottle. It had been a long day, especially for Anne. Time to go to bed. She had maybe an hour or two before Liz would demand to be fed again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The guest room was always made up. Henry would sometimes sleep there when Anne was pregnant and commanding most of the space in their bed for herself and her pillows. Or when he just wanted to avoid the baby monitor because he had work in the morning - unlike his wife, of course. He always had work in the morning though. Long gone were days where he actually spent time with his spouse and they got along so infamously. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Thank you for checking up on me earlier, Aragon." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Of course", Catalina tilted her head, golden-honey-coloured eyes getting a little lost in Annes dark muddy ones, "I'm glad you don't look so puffy anymore, Boleyn." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Me too. I'm way too fit to cry over an ungrateful bitch husband." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Giggles turned into hushed whispers as not to wake up their daughters. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"That's the spirit", she chuckled and nearly unintentionally lifted a hand to gently stroke Anne's cheek with soft fingertips. She looked much better now. Face flushed with alcohol, gaze hazy with approaching sleep. Catalina could see it now; when Anne smiled at her lazily, brushing her own long fingers against hers, the different tones of their skin complimenting each other, what Henry must have seen in her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Goodnight", she whispered, not realizing how close they had swayed towards each other, the wine made it hard to coordinate movements. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Goodnight", Anne turned her head just enough to press a careless kiss against her new friend's pale open palm. It tingled.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Goodnight", Catalina repeated, a little too mesmerized by the moment. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Maybe it was the alcohol clouding her judgment, but it felt like a veil of fog had lifted over them tonight and they saw each other for the first time. Unbound by any roles such as wife or mistress. There was no one else around to watch and ravel in the spectacle. It was just them. No one else. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Anne stepped forwards and Catalina sighed in contempt. She never enjoyed their feud. This was much better. Liberating. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Goodnight", Anne snorted quietly, stopping with barely a few inches separating them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Good-", she hadn't finished forming the words when her lips were stopped in their track by the delicate pressure of Anne's mouth against Catalinas. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Goodnight", she breathed back, separating for hardly more than a second before a second kiss followed. Tender and cautious. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Anne...", Catalina made quick work of adding a third kiss to their roll but stepped away right after, "we're drun- we're drunk... we're very, very drunk."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"No. I'm not." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>" Honestly, you're probably drunker than me...", she rolled her eyes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You're drunker", Anne stepped closer and when Catalina took a step backwards, her shoulders hit the door to the guestroom. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yeah", she agreed and they kissed again. And again. And again. And once more for good measure. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I think I went after the wrong Tudor...", Anne whispered between kisses, moving her lips down Catalina's jaw now, "you're so... stunnin'." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Anne..." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Catalina." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You're drunk and sad..." and she was too drunk herself, to wonder about the meaning behind all of this. Behind how good it felt to kiss the other woman; when she's never seriously considered to before and now couldn't see herself not thinking about it ever again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I don't care." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I do." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And the look in Anne's eyes, as lashes fluttered briefly, had nearly torn Catalina in two then and there. Urging her on to pull Anne upstairs and into unmade sheets. She had never seen such honesty - not from her. But all the fresh heartbreak was there as well. How she felt lost and alone. Even if there had been some underlying attraction to their bickering and fighting before; now wasn't the time to explore it. But there was plenty of opportunity in the future, Catalina hoped.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You do", the surprise in her voice hurt even more.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Catalina kissed her again, against all better judgment, "Goodnight." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Goodnight, Aragon", Anne stepped away, making room for Catalina to take some deep, shaky breaths, "I don't think I </span>
  <em>
    <span>hate </span>
  </em>
  <span>you." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She smiled, "me too." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They fought the urge to step back into each others space for one last kiss, with the solid knowledge that they wouldn't be able to pull apart again. It was better this way. Catalina and Anne had just started to get along and play nice. Henry had only just started to fade out of the picture. Time was in no short supply. If there was anything to those kisses, they'd figure it out. Cautiously. Sober. Together. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They managed to break the spell and go to bed, sleep it off, for a little while. Before Anne was called back to duty by Elizabeth and Catalina made a mental note to tell her what she learned from attempting to sleep train Mary. She had a feeling that Anne would be much more receptive to her parenting advice after tonight. And Catalina was a lot more willing to help too. She wanted to be there for her; make sure Anne knew she wasn't alone. </span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm not 100% convinced they didn't colour code the show's outfits to match the Queens with their favourite bags of crisps! Jane is black and white cause she's either a health fanatic or maybe likes black pepper crisps the most??? But Anna and ready salted? It just fits! Don't @ me ... actually, do, I'd love some comments regarding any of this haha </p><p>Also: I THINK I've not been entirely faithful to one tense in this... or the characters... but writing them is hard... drop me the critiqué &lt;:0</p></blockquote></div></div>
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